ECMP 10

Chapter 10

A murmur spread through the crowd.

High society, at its core, was a gathering of gossip lovers. Otherwise, why would they care so much about how others looked at them?

Janice’s mind began to turn. Fortunately, she had enough experience in society to make up for any lack of brilliance.

She knew all too well—who would be seen as virtuous, and who would be painted as vile in situations like this.

“A noble, by nature, should know how to generously forgive the faults of those beneath them. That is what we call dignity.”

To Anastasia, Janice’s calm smile and talk of “dignity” was almost laughable.

If that so-called “small mistake” had been made toward Janice herself instead of Anastasia, Diana wouldn’t have lived to see the next morning’s sunlight.

Still, the way Janice cornered her while emphasizing noble conduct was something worth learning. Anastasia narrowed her eyes, engraving that seasoned cunning into her mind.

“By the way, Anastasia.”

“What?”

“Are you hurt? Your sister is worried about you.”

Janice approached calmly, then turned her back to Anastasia.

She was facing the gathered crowd.

“I am Janice Étrangère, the eldest daughter of the House of Étrangère. I sincerely apologize for my inadequate younger sister causing a disturbance with her foolish mistake.”

A mocking smile spread across Anastasia’s lips.

This was amusing.

She hadn’t expected this approach. It made her realize she needed to become even more cunning.

But she had no intention of losing.

After all, she had no reputation left to lose here.

Sorvan’s puppet. A tool to maintain the Étrangère family’s power. A beautiful weapon of war…

Those were the names she had carried until her death.

Only one title had ever pleased her—

The one bestowed upon her by the king along with her position as a court mage:

“The Grand Witch of Osmanthus.”

Ignoring Anastasia, Janice turned and bowed to Louis.

“I deeply apologize for my sister’s inadequate and rude behavior, Your Highness.”

Anastasia’s gaze sharpened.

How could it not?

The people who had tormented her all her life were standing right in front of her—

Shamelessly.

As if they had done nothing wrong.

With innocent faces, still scolding her.

“I see.”

Louis Yanpots was originally in a position to mediate this conflict.

As the host of the ball, it would be best if everything proceeded smoothly, beautifully, and gracefully.

But even after his butler quietly informed him, Louis chose to let things unfold.

It might be interesting to see how Anastasia handles this.

The Anastasia Étrangère he had heard about in rumors was very different from the woman standing before him now with her back straight.

And besides—it had been ten years.

There was no way he felt nothing.

Watching Janice, Anastasia let out an audible sigh.

“There was a time…”

With that single sentence, Janice fell silent, and all attention returned to Anastasia.

“There was a time I thought that side of you was elegant and beautiful.”

Her words were soft—

but her tone was not.

“But not anymore.”

Aslan’s face twisted.

“Hyung—how can you say that?”

“Be quiet, Aslan.”

Anastasia silenced him with a single glance.

It was the overwhelming presence of a grand witch, as if she could crush him with unseen force at any moment.

Aslan shrank under the abyss in her gaze.

Instinctively.

It was the moment his worth as a man was diminished in front of all the ladies present.

“…Anastasia.”

There was pity in Janice’s eyes.

But Anastasia knew better than anyone that it was just an act.

Even if she stepped closer, took her hand, and shed tears—

she would never be deceived again.

“Enough. Even if you resent me, let’s settle this matter within the family. It’s only proper—for His Highness, who hosted this gathering, and for all the honored guests. No matter how talented a mage you are, you cannot do as you please outside the family as you do within it. Do you understand?”

Then she bowed gracefully once more to the crowd.

“I apologize. Please forgive us sisters for showing such an unsightly scene to His Highness and our distinguished guests.”

It was more effective than Aslan’s behavior.

Janice was the flower of high society, after all.

Her words carried weight.

Using the fact that internal family matters rarely became public, Janice painted Anastasia as a reckless girl who relied only on her magic and disrupted the household.

But that might have worked in the past.

Not now.

“The one mocking the guests right now isn’t me—it’s you, sister.”

“Anastasia!”

“To ridicule not only the gathered nobles, but also the First Prince… even the honor of the royal family. I’m sorry, Sir Hothengel. I’m sure my sister didn’t intend to tarnish your reputation as well.”

Her voice was calm and quiet—

but unmistakably sarcastic.

Unspoken words lingered behind it:

She’s simply thoughtless.

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Who exactly is disgracing the family name in front of the royal court? Do you really think… that Sir Hothengel—whose craftsmanship is guaranteed by the royal family—would present shoes held together with plaster at a royal ball?”

Her tone was low and cold.

Janice trembled. Behind her, Diana trembled as well—though for different reasons.

Janice from anger.

Diana from fear.

“The only people who could have touched my shoes were Hothengel’s staff… and Diana, whom you’re protecting right now.”

The eyes of the gossip-hungry crowd instantly darted between Anastasia and Janice.

“Think carefully.”

The sound of Janice swallowing was deafening.

And then—

A scream shattered the silence.

“KYAAAH!”

From the far corner.

The crowd split apart like the sea before a prophet.

A heavy scent of blood filled the air.

“Artorius.”

Though he had wiped it off, the smell of blood clung to him.

Yet everyone was in awe.

That silver armor—though slightly distorted—surpassed even that of a king.

Sir Hothengel, in particular, was completely captivated by the sword at his back—its hilt, guard, and pommel.

Artorius stepped forward and knelt before Anastasia, placing one knee on the ground.

When he removed his helmet, the noble ladies nearby forgot to breathe.

“My lady.”

“Speak.”

“I was delayed while eliminating all pursuing assassins. Please reprimand me for failing to fulfill my duty as your guard.”

The abyss.

A curse that drew power from all darkness.

There was no way he wouldn’t know her location—or her safety.

He had likely known everything happening here from afar, like a beast sensing the faint rustle of prey.

And yet, he came—

to pull her out of this awkward situation.

She couldn’t end everything here anyway.

And even if she had anticipated this, it wasn’t as though she came out unscathed.

Then—

it would be best to make a memorable exit.

Artorius willingly became that stage device.

“Good. There’s no more threat to me now?”

Anastasia extended her hand.

Artorius took it gently, kissed the back of it, and rose.

“No. There is still one. Though I have killed all the assassins—”

His cold gaze shifted toward Duke Sorvan.

It was as if sparks flew in the air.

“—I failed to strike down the one who commands them. That is my greatest mistake.”

Anastasia shook her head, then turned to Louis.

“Louis.”

“…Ah, yes?”

Looking at the prince, who stared at her like a fool, Anastasia smiled faintly.

Now—

these people, whom she could move like chess pieces in her hand—

Why had she once feared them so much?

“I’m leaving now. Won’t you say goodbye?”

“Goodbye?”

“Yes. Like ten years ago. You said that’s how people part after a social gathering.”

“…Ah.”

He remembered.

Anastasia cast a brief glance at Janice, then waited.

Louis bowed slightly.

One to the left cheek.

One to the right.

One more to the left.

Their lips never touched—only the sound.

As she turned away, Louis spoke.

“…If I want to see you again, do I have to wait another ten years, Anastasia?”

“No.”

She answered firmly, extending her hand to Artorius.

A lady could not walk barefoot.

A knight must serve as her carriage—until they reached the actual one.

“Next time you host a gathering, I’ll be sure to attend.”

Cradled in Artorius’s arms, Anastasia made her promise.

Louis’s expression softened.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

She found all of this amusing.

The way everyone’s eyes were on her.

The fact that the kingdom’s First Prince was still swayed by feelings from childhood.

Perhaps Janice—older by a few years—had noticed this long ago.

Perhaps that’s why she had locked her away in the tower.

“Let’s go, Artorius.”

“Yes, my lady.”

As he walked, the crowd parted once more like sacred waters.

He deliberately passed by Duke Sorvan—

and spoke in a low voice only he and Anastasia could hear.

“Go on. Try something else.”

“…My lady?”

Enoch jumped up from the driver’s seat in shock.

What had happened? The music had stopped, and now his lady was being carried barefoot by a knight?

“It’s nothing, Enoch.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

He sighed.

“I’m a bit tired… can I explain later?”

“And where is Diana in all this? Wasn’t she inside?”

The air froze.

Enoch immediately realized his mistake.

“Diana is…”

Anastasia spoke slowly.

“She’s dismissed. As of today.”

Enoch nodded after seeing her expression.

As Artorius helped her into the carriage, Enoch took the reins again and asked:

“Sir knight.”

“What is it?”

“…Did you really kill them all?”

His voice trembled slightly.

On the way back, they would have to pass corpses bearing the family crest.

“Every last one.”

Artorius’s words were sharp as a blade.

Enoch sighed at the lingering scent of blood.

Good Lord…

Did that fragile young lady truly know all of this—and still give the order to show no mercy?

Artorius waited as the old coachman finished his quiet prayer.

When Enoch opened his eyes again, resolve had returned to them.

From the moment he chose her over the duke, there was no turning back.

And he did not regret it.

“My lady has changed.”

Artorius sat beside him and replied:

“She will reclaim everything that rightfully belongs to her.”